Fear of Losing One's Self
by Britva
Summary: Rickon visits one of his most trusted commanders, Arya, to receive some help and he helps her to cross the line in her relationship with Gendry. One-Shot


Rickon saw Arya first; her large black courser galloping across the snowy field, as her long, dark hair flew freely from the hood of her cloak. She was astride the horse, like a man and dressed like one too. A few paces behind Arya was her handsome second-in-command. He was imposing; being fairly tall and well-muscled. A fierce black beard graced his chiseled face with blue eyes burning above, which Rickon remembered for their intensity. He'd never recalled seeing the Ser laugh before, then again he'd never seen him smile either. Despite the knight's size, he did not look as imposing at that moment.

As he and Arya road into camp, Rickon caught their laughter. Arya was still flushed from it as she pulled up her horse and dismounted to throw herself into her little brother's arms. Little only in chronological order. Even though Arya was now a woman of nine and ten, Rickon's chin rested on the top of her head as they embraced.

"It's been too long, brother." "It has", Rickon agreed. He'd barely seen her since he'd sent her to command his most southern armies.

By this time, her companion had dismounted as well, handing the horses to a nearby squire. Whereas moments before his face had been lit with pleasure, it was now a stony mask with the blue eyes boring out. This was the man that Rickon remembered.

"Ser Gendry, good to see you," Rickon tried and the older man just gave him a curt nod.

"You've come a long way to see me. Come. I'll have a warm meal provided for you," Arya was saying as she pulled her brother towards her tent. Rickon followed but Gendry did not.

Once they were alone, a maid brought him some hot broth. Arya took off her cloak and slung it over a chair. "Alright, baby brother, what's wrong?" He hated when she called him that . He was fully the same age Robb had been when he had first marched off to war.

She sat down crossing her slender legs at the ankle and looking at him expectantly. He didn't expect his sister to shy away from bad news, she wasn't Sansa. Rickon actually had a lot to discuss with her, which is why he'd made the long journey south, but it'd all been wiped from his mind when he'd seen her with Ser Gendry and remembered what had been said.

"There are rumors. Black rumors trying to undermine your command here. They say you bed your lowborn knight."

Arya's face instantly turned red and Rickon was spared from having to wonder if it was from anger or embarrassment when she spat, "Those scheming bastards. I know some of the stubborn Northern lords hate that a woman commands. I've had no trouble with my own warriors, as they seem to fear a she-wolf, but the missives from Lord Rhollon and Lord Karstarck have bordered heavily on insolence."

Rickon paused, getting the sense his sister was about to turn on him next, since he'd brought up the accusation. "It doesn't really matter if you are, Arya. I'm not here to tell you who you should bed or not, I just wanted to warn you that some want to see you fall."

"I'm not bedding him, as if that matters," She remarked and Rickon nodded. He'd figured as much.

"But that's not all I'm here for," Rickon said and she looked up at him from under her long eyelashes. Despite being dressed so masculine, there was no denying his sister had grown into a beautiful women and he didn't doubt rumors came from many corners and mostly jealous ones.

"I need your advice," he said looking sheepish. Rickon had many advisers but his sister was a brilliant military mind and he needed that now. He'd also missed her.

Arya caught the sleeve of the servant taking away her cloak to be cleaned. "Please bring me, Gendry." The servant nodded and scampered off to do her bidding.

Rickon noticed that she didn't call him Ser and after seeing her with him in the snow he wondered at it. At his skeptical look she smiled. "We work as a team."

A few moments later, the flap of the tent raised and in strode Gendry. Ayra stood and moved to a long table cluttered with paper. "My brother needs advice and we're to help," She told Gendry and he moved to her side at the table.

Rickon explained his dilemma of where to send the western branch of his army. It was a balance of men, supplies and time that made his own head ache, but Arya and Gendry intently studied the maps. They discussed what the options were more with each other than him he noticed.

"We can't move them there, they could get cut off from supplies and be left vulnerable," Arya said as Gendry pointed at a spot on the paper. As Rickon watched them bicker and agree and then bicker again over strategy, he saw why people may see something more than friendly companionship.

He felt almost a little jealous as Arya made a joke about torching the Twins and Gendry laughed. A low warm sound. He didn't have that with anyone. He felt like he is intruding on something sacred and intimate and they're just reading a damn map. He cleared his throat and both sets of eyes look at him. Arya's grey and warm and Gendry's blue and guarded.

"It's just come to my mind. When you came to be our Master Armorer at Winterfell, you said you have ties in Rosby. Do you think any of them would be able to supply us with what we need there? Because I feel that would be the prime spot to launch our offensive."

Gendry looked down at the map his brows furrowing and a pained expression coming to his face as he thought.

"Yes, I can help." He said finally.

"Thank you Ser. Now, my dear sister, I am exhausted from the ride. I'm going to bed down." Rickon said rising to kiss his sister on the cheek. He heard Gendry make a jape at her expense. She snorted and punch the big knight in the arm.

As he left them, he had a sudden unbidden thought. 'Arya doesn't know'

Even though he had only meant to tell her to be careful, Rickon found himself bringing up Gendry when he found Arya praying to the old gods the next morning.

"Please do not get angry with me," he began and Arya instantly frowned.

"Have you thought to marry?"

"Never," Arya said flatly.

"I think you should re-consider." For that he received a glare.

"And who would I marry? She asked mockingly as she stood up from where she'd been kneeling in the dirt.

"Gendry," Rickon said.

For her credit, Arya's face took on a pained look. "I don't want to marry. Then I would be expected to keep house, bear children and be a lady. I'd lose all of this." She motioned to the woods and Rickon knew she meant her command. She had started to pace; clearly agitated by the conversation.

"Truly, Ayra? Would he make you?"

She stopped dead and for one brief moment, Rickon saw her as young, scared girl not his vastly competent commander. Not his fierce sister.

"I don't know." She said. Emotion making her voice wobble and her face turn crimson at her own vulnerability. Rickon had never seen her like this.

He couldn't help a secret smile when she wasn't looking. So she didn't know. She'd never asked, too afraid her one true friend would turn away. She hadn't wanted to lose her best friend... again.

"I think this is something you should discuss. It would be much harder for the other commanders and lords to find fault with you bedding your husband," he said and Arya laughed.

Rickon ran into Gendry as he was leaving the woods and he knew where Gendry was going. When Gendry has shown up at the re-taken Winterfell, offering his services as a smith, Rickon had been much younger and Gendry had intimidated him with his sullen stare, but now Rickon felt he understood Gendry's guarded attitude a little more.

"Ser Gendry, may I have a word?" Rickon asked and Gendry nodded his consent. Still as stoic as always.

"I know you are in love with my sister," Rickon began and Gendry looked thunderstruck, but Rickon pressed on quickly. "I'm pretty sure she loves you back, but she doesn't want to become a lady and lose her independence."

Gendry nodded although his blue eyes were still wide with surprise. "I don't think you'd do that."

"Are you commanding me to marry your sister?" Gendry asked and he looked amused.

Rickon felt embarrassment color his face. He was meddling like an old woman. "No!" He said tersely before stomping away.

Gendry found Arya sitting on a fallen tree, chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought. Gendry felt certain Rickon had said something to her. The thought made him really wanted to just march back the way he'd come. All this time of never saying anything about his feelings to her to protect their friendship and it had gone down in flames with a few idiotic comments from her brother. Time was up it seemed.

He knelt at her feet and took her slender hands in his own large callused ones. "Arya, I know you don't want to live like a lady and I promise you that I would never change that." He thought she was going to punch him for being so forward, but she threw herself into his arms instead, knocking them both into the dirt.

Gendry laughed and clutched her to his chest, realizing they'd both started crying from joy.

Rickon presided over their hand fasting ceremony a few days later under the trees, where Arya felt the old gods could bear witness.

Any fears that Arya had had about being trapped by marriage were for naught. She, with Gendry always at her side, commanded Rickon's forces to several decisive victories and when the war was won, Rickon provided her with enough gold to build her own great house, but she didn't. Instead, they traveled. No guards. No servants. Just the she-wolf and her bull on an adventure.


End file.
